Our Choices make us who we are
by schnabeldame
Summary: One shot. Missing Moment. Even Dumbledore sometimes needs someone to talk to even if doesn't know it him self. Set between OOtP and HBP


**Our choices make us who we are**

„What have I done?" Dumbledore let himself drop into his armchair in front of the merrily crackling fire. He slumpled over and buried his head in his arms and for the first time in a very long time Fawkes saw theshoulders of his master twitch as he cried. Desperate sobs sounded as Fawkes took flight across the room and sdat on the armrest of Dumbledore's chair. He trilled a compassionate note, but Dumbledore did not react at first. But then Fawkes was able to discern his voice, muffled by the folds of his long purple sleeves.

"Fawkes, it's our choices that make us who we are. I've always believed that and I've always tried to teach that. What does that make me now? What kind of person would know what I knew and still do what I did? How could I not think about how he must have felt? How could I not see how this would affect him just as much as everything else he's been through? I only wanted to protect him so much – apart from the fact that he is our only hope I love him like I would my own child."

He looked up at the phoenix.

"But I failed. Have I loved so little? How can I expect him to trust me – or any adult, for that matter – when we constantly not only prove ourselves untrustworthy but actually expose him to danger! How could I not see it was just one step short of murdering Sirius to keep him cooped up in Grimmauld Place, of all places! How could I, who kenw that Harry's emotions are the key to every hope we have, forget to even consider them? How could I not trust him to be strong, but let him be weakened by abandoning him, exposing him to violence, anguish, grief and in the end Voldemort? I should have been there to support him – instead I lost every right to his trust while I got lost in scheming. Maybe I have been Voldemort's most loyal supporter in these past years."

"Albus, you should not be so hard on yourself."

Dumbledore started violently and looked up at the intruder's face in confusion.

"Minerva! You startled me."

"Well, that's a first." the deputy headmistress replied, peering concernedly at the headmaster's face. She had never seen him look so weary and old and she certainly had never seen him cry before.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough." She did not add that a phoenix feather that suddenly appeared in front of her desk had called her to Dumbledore's office. It had obviously been Fawkes, not the man himself, who thought that Dumbledore could use some human company.

Dumbledore straightened up. "Minerva, would you please leave me alone for a while?"

"No."

Dumbledore looked at her, startled once more. "Min-" he started, but was interrupted.

"No, Albus, I inted to have my say this time."

Dumbledore resignedly let himself sink back into his chair again.

"Yes, it is our choices that make us who we are" she began. "I, too, believe that. But it is not humanly possible to know all the consequences of a choice we make. Thus it is very possible that a decision we make will have consequences we didn't anticipate. These consequences we didn't anticipate or maybe even don't know of are neither merit nor fault. You did honestly think you were keeping Harry safe. You made wrong choices – but you made them for the right reasons. That has got to count for something."

"Well then, write that on my tombstone: 'He meant well'" Dumbledore replied scathingly.

"Albus, I'm not making excuses for you!" Professor McGonagall almost yelled. "But if what you say is true and it is our choices that make us who we are, then we are free to influence our own choices. And that means the intentions that foster our choices describe even more closely who we are. 'If you want to know a man, don't look at his accomplishments, look at his dreams.' Would you please accept your own advice and stop crying over spilt potion? Get on wit it, get your act together, make sure Harry learns what he needs to learn. Take him seriously and let him know you trust him. That's the only way to gain his trust in return."

Dumbledore stared at his deputy for what seemed like an enterity. Then she thought she'd caught a glimpse of the familiar twinkle in his eyes as he replied, "Thank you, Minerva. I think I needed that. You are right."

Minerva McGonagall sank into the second armchair in front of the fireplace. For a long while both of them were staring into the flames, seemingly lost in thought. Suddenly Professor McGonagall spoke.

"You and Harry ... you are more alike than either of you think."

Dumbledore looked up in surprise. "What?"

"Well, both of you think you have to do everything by yourself. Both of you often refuse to let anyone in on your thoughts, let alone talk about your feelings. And still both of you inspire the people around you to love and trust you and to follow your lead."

"That's not-" Dumbledore began, but fell silent.

"Yes, it is."

"You are right." Dumbledore admitted. After another short silence he got up. "Well, if that is the case, we should be able to learn to understand each other, shouldn't we" he said as he turned towards his pensieve and began to add long silver strands of thought to it.


End file.
